


running in circles for five-thousand miles

by VacuumTan



Series: Tellius AU [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fantastic Racism, Fire Emblem AU, Gen, Past Child Abuse, Pre-Slash, Tellius AU, iwa-chan is a dragon laguz, mild violence, oikawa is a branded, they just kinda travel together i guess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-11-07 11:06:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11057661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VacuumTan/pseuds/VacuumTan
Summary: Some things about the travels of a branded boy and his loyal caretaker.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this once was supposed to be a really long one-shot, but i decided to take a few chunks of story and make 'em into individual chapters.
> 
> there's basically two timelines in this: the one written in italics is in the past, the one written in normal text is the present. i think this should work, since this story is basically just a prologue and i gotta shoehorn all that backstory in.

_He’s tiny._

_His big, chocolate eyes blink up at Hajime, small body shaking violently. From above his left brow, just shy of his hairline, glares an angry red mark- an intricate, nigh ornate curl of three lines, slung into each other to create an image reminiscent of a leaf. At first sight, a soft little beorc, seemingly abandoned in a place as hard to survive in as the borderlands of Goldoa._

_He’s branded, though._

_“What’s your name?” Hajime asks him, crouching to meet his eye. The child recoils at first, staring at the undoubtedly strange man in front of him with a fearful expression. Then, however, it’s only seconds until he curls his trembling hands into his thin robes and swallows what must be a lump in his throat._

_“Tooru,” he exhales shakily, lips quaking. After that, more loudly, “my name is Tooru.”_

 

* * *

 

 

“Damnit,” Hajime breathes, weaving through the crowd of beorc with far too much experience. The merchants manning the stands on the market areas excessively loud as they always are, but even over all the noise, Hajime can still make out one voice in particular.

 

Following the sound will undoubtedly lead him where he is needed, yet there’s a part of him- a petty, egoistic thing- that wants to resist, to turn heel and walk away. But he won’t, because he knows he’ll have to suffer through the repercussions of whatever that _idiot_ gets himself into; Hajime is, although he’ll rarely and quite begrudgingly admit it, too attached, after all.

 

So he’d always come running.

 

He staggers to a halt as the voice grows loud and clear and definitely much closer. It bounces off brick walls, flighty and lilting, and its echo indicates the quickest route to his destination.

At least, Hajime hopes it does.

 

Around another two corners, past a few small crowds gathered here and there, he finally sees him. In a narrow street, young women surround him- because, damn it all, it’s _always_ young women- and he basks in it. The attention, the flattery, their honest interest in him.

 

Hajime doesn’t like it. “Tooru,” he calls, steps closer. Predictably, Tooru perks up, accustomed to the sound of Hajime’s voice, and grins as he spots him among the people. The flock of girls turns heads to look at him, eyes collectively going wide at the broad, hooded figure that approaches them.

 

“Hajime!” Tooru greets, almost genuine in his brightness. He strides past the women, throwing a disarming smile or ten their way, and bumps his shoulder into Hajime’s. “Did you miss me so badly that you went looking for me?” he asks blithely, and the girls, although their group is beginning to dissolve, giggle as though he’d said something scandalous.

 

But it’s nothing unusual, so Hajime just sighs and turns his head away from possible prying eyes. He knows how it goes, after all: their curiosity will undoubtedly win out at some point and they’ll try sneaking a glance below his hood. What they’ll find is dark skin, littered with tell-tale red markings, sharply tipped ears and eyes just a bit too old for his youthful face.

 

Tooru excuses himself, then, steers Hajime away from his personal little crowd, and drags him along into the fray of the market. “Thanks for getting me,” he says after a while without all his previous bravado, weaving through the masses with his fist curled tightly into Hajime’s sleeve.

 

“It’s fine, idiot,” Hajime tells him as the crowd begins to thin out, somewhere closer to the margins of the marketplace. Tooru halts, turns on his heel while bumping into some bustling strangers, and he grins, all flawless teeth and soft eyes.

 

And Hajime remembers, once more, _why_ he’ll always come running.

 

* * *

 

 

_Tooru is malnourished and weak, barely able to stay awake as Hajime carries him towards his house, hiding the tiny body below his wide robes. It’s provisory, at best, and if someone really wanted to, they would notice the small beorc in a matter of seconds, but the path is, thankfully, clear in the middle of the night._

_The second they’re past the threshold, Hajime sets the boy down. Tooru blearily blinks up at him, thin lips pursed. “Are you hungry?” Hajime asks him, tentatively, and Tooru’s eyes go wide before he nods eagerly. So he’s catered to: some meat, some stew, some water- whatever Hajime can find around his house._

_And Tooru digs in, unrefined and with the sole purpose of filling his stomach. It’s likely the first proper meal he’s had in who knows how long. Once he’s finished, he sits straight, chocolate eyes surveying the room. Hajime kneels across from him on the floor, watching the child._

_“Who left you back there?” he asks him, because there’s no point in holding up with the reason for his abandonment, and Tooru’s wandering eyes quickly snap to the floor, glaring at it. His thin shoulders quake slightly. Maybe he’s crying._

_A self-conscious touch to his forehead. A shaky inhale. Then, “my family, of course.”_

 

* * *

 

 

They stay around town that night, Tooru charming a discount out of a middle-aged innkeeper with a disarming smile and some sugary words. Hajime lags behind awkwardly, not keen on spoiling Tooru’s efforts with his undoubtedly suspicious presence.

 

So he heads down the hallway to their room two paces ahead and only halts when he comes to stand in front of a locked door. Tooru swoops in and quickly unlocks it, yet leaves Hajime to actually open it. And, with a sigh and a lot of resignation, he does just that.

 

The room is open and wide, with a large window and almost white curtains. The furniture isn’t much- two beds with nigh stainless sheets and a small nightstand. Thin walls painted yellow. Wooden flooring and soft lighting. It’s almost homey.

 

“Oh, this place is actually pretty nice!” Tooru assesses as he strides inside their surprisingly spacious and cleanly quarters. He sets down the knapsack containing his belongings on the floor before turning to smile at Hajime. “Do you think that generous lady gave us the best room because I’m so handsome?”

 

Hajime just rolls his eyes and puts his own bag of odds and ends down.  “If that were the case, we’d be sleeping in the stable,” he replies drily and shoves his hood back. Tooru clutches his heart with one hand, letting out an offended gasp.

 

“Hajime, how _dare_ you,” he says, tossing his hair dramatically. “I am as sensitive as I am beautiful, and I won’t take an insult like that from some scaly old lizard!”

 

“Sure,” Hajime deadpans. Tooru huffs and turns away to throw himself at one of the beds- apparently _his_ bed- while whining something about laguz being even bigger savages than most people would assume. Hajime sighs and sits down on the unoccupied bed. “In any case, you got us a room and a nice discount, so thanks for that.”

 

Tooru raises his head just long enough to blow him a raspberry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i haven't touched this thing since january if word is to be trusted, so. uhh. maybe i'll find my motivation again. because i love fe9/10 and this au makes me happy. but then i get all mopey and. ugh.
> 
> also, i have an unfinished kyouhaba for this as well. if you're interested, hmu.


	2. Chapter 2

_The thing on Tooru’s forehead is no brand._

_“They carved it into my skin,” he explains, sounding almost detached from it all. Hajime, however, inhales sharply in shock. “They wanted everyone to see what I was, so they made another one in a more obvious place.”_

_Hajime’s throat is dry, no matter how many times he swallows oh-so thickly; beorc truly are barbaric. There’s no more tremors shaking Tooru’s shoulders, though, so Hajime, too, has to brave the oppressive topic._

_“Where is the actual mark, then?” he asks upon a whisper. Instead of answering the question verbally, Tooru rolls up the leg of his pants and bares his right knee with a delicate touch to the brand._

_The dark mark marring his skin is a tangle of tendrils and curls, irregular shapes crawling around his kneecap to connect in the bend. It looks almost ornate, Hajime thinks, delicate shapes over a large expanse._

_He’s ripped out of his reverie when Tooru speaks up again. “What are you going to do with me now?” asks the child, doe eyes wide, red-rimmed and fearful. Hajime feels the expression tug at his heartstrings._

_Naturally, he should put him back where he found him, leaving him at nature’s mercy once more. Taking in a beorc- and a brandedone at that- could never go well; if anyone noticed, there’d be no telling what punishments both of them would have to face. Giving Tooru some rations and getting him to the next beorc village (however far away that might be- Hajime wouldn’t know) could and- most likely- would result in him facing prosecution or death if anyone ever found out about his heritage._

_Tooru had become a lost cause the second he was abandoned._

* * *

 

 

When Hajime wakes up, their room is, predictably, devoid of everything Tooru, including the man himself. It’s an old habit of his- leaving before his company wakes up- and Hajime has no idea for what reason he’d developed it in the first place.

 

(He might be better off not knowing, either way.)

 

Sluggishly, he starts his day one foot at a time. He’s always been slow to wake, eyes blurry and needlessly wet, but whenever he gets to sleep in an actual bed, his motivation to get up all but dwindles away. Yet he’s needed somewhere- wherever Tooru is, really- so the covers go flying and he makes quick work of washing up and getting dressed. He checks if there’s been anything left behind and when there isn’t, he leaves the room, locks up and leaves the inn altogether.

 

South of town, just past the gates, there should be a forest, Hajime knows; they are headed there, maybe another two days from now. He also knows Tooru, as well as his antics, habits and personality. And, much to his chagrin, he knows exactly what a combination of all these factors inevitably leads to.

 

Tooru gets uneasy travelling uncharted and completely unfamiliar terrain, after all.

 

* * *

 

_It takes days to decide, and then another few to pack up._

_Tooru is shocked when Hajime wakes him by pushing a bag into his hands, containing nothing but rations and a brush, and tells him to come. “Why?” he croaks, voice sleep-addled and curious. Hajime looks down at him, seizes his wrist and pulls him along._

_“I’ll take care of you,” he answers quickly, pulls a hood over his head and urges Tooru on to do the same. The boy stumbles as he tries to keep up with larger strides, his body still in no condition to do so. But, Hajime thinks, wherever they might end up, Tooru would still have a better chance at growing healthier over there._

_Both of them fall silent as they quickly rush through the night, the desert cool and the mountains, ever growing closer, promising a decent enough hiding place even during the day. Hajime knows the tall ranges, every nook and cranny, having kept vigil for many decades._

_He's never left his homeland before, not for an extended period of time, but he can’t help but think that a change of scenery from the desert and wastelands that is Goldoa might do him good. And even if all that awaits him past the mountains is nothing but the acclaimed ill-treatment every race of laguz has to face under the rule of beorc, he won’t know unless he goes himself._

_And Tooru’s safety is a pretty good reason to leave, as well._

* * *

 

 

Even after many years, Hajime still takes immense pleasure in the humidity trapped below a canopy of leaves that is nigh exclusive to forests. Maybe because it initially was something novel to him, what with him growing up in an arid climate, but somehow, walks through the woods had remained one of his favourite pastimes.

 

Which, by all means, doesn’t mean that he appreciates having to look for Tooru in a dense, extensive forest; senses far above any beorc’s be damned.

 

So he aimlessly roams the underwood, always paying attention not to stray too far from the path in order not to get lost, and searches. It’s something he’s used to, after all- finding Tooru, that is. By the time he _does_ find whom he’s been looking for, the sun is already high in the sky and the light filtered through the leaves turns everything a gentle green hue.

 

Tooru is hunched over on a tree stump, right knee subconsciously curled inward while his left leg supports the parchment he is writing on. He seems to be immersed in his work, squinting hard at the words escaping his quill. Hajime decides not to interrupt him in fear of startling him too badly, so he quietly settles down on a patch of grass, watching the beorc work.

 

There is something undeniably attractive about the way Tooru looks then and there, fringe casting a soft shadow over his face, save for the peaks of his curved nose and high cheekbones. He’s furrowing his brows and gnawing at his lip as though he were frustrated, but the quill in his slender hands never stops.

 

Except when it does, after a long time.

 

“For how long have you been there already?” he asks, eyes fixed on Hajime the second they leave the paper. It’s admittedly a bit uncanny, but it’s _Tooru_ , so it’s hardly surprising.

 

Hajime pushes himself off the ground and pats a bit of dirt off his ass. “No longer than an hour,” he answers and Tooru just hums, rolling up the parchment before tying it up. “I stopped by a bakery on my way here. Got you some lunch.”

 

Tooru’s eyes widen at that, shimmering with pure glee. “Did they happen to have…” he begins but chokes on a happy inhale as Hajime wordlessly pulls a small loaf out of his bag.

 

“You and your expensive tastes,” Hajime mutters as he passes Tooru the bread. Yet the beorc just squeals in delight and immediately breaks off a chunk, propping it into his mouth with his ink-covered fingers.


	3. Chapter 3

_“You still haven’t told me your name,” Tooru says, one quiet night, right into the dying embers that used to be their campfire._

_“It’s…” Hajime begins, then hesitates. He looks at the boy’s small form, curled up below two thin blankets that can hardly keep him warm, and wonders if he has any reason not to trust the child._

_But before he can tell him, Tooru speaks up again, “you don’t have to.”_

_“Hajime,” says Hajime quickly, and he could swear that he catches a pair of brown eyes flick up to him at that. “That’s my name.”_

_“Okay,” Tooru replies._

 

* * *

 

 

By the time they make it out of the forest, dusk is already eating away at the horizon, swallowing the daylight in a matter of minutes.

 

“The next village shouldn’t be too far,” Tooru states, looking around. “Putting up camp now would be too much of a hassle, since it’s already getting dark.”

 

Hajime just hums his assent and continues walking next to Tooru. His feet hardly hurt, thanks to the soft, nearly loamy quality of the soil inside the woods, even after a long day’s walk, but the slight limp in Tooru’s gait would imply that he isn’t so lucky.

 

“Can you even go on like that?” Hajime asks and Tooru just blinks at him, evidently confused. But, following his line of sight, he then comes to realise that he’s talking about his legs, looking wobbly and ready to give out.

 

That’s why he bounces in place and slaps a paper-thin smile onto his face, throwing Hajime a wink for good measure. “Sure I can!” declares Tooru, and he spins around for emphasis. “Sheesh, Hajime, I could still run a mile, no problem. Don’t worry about that.”

 

But his ankle chooses his next step to give out and Hajime dives to catch a stumbling Tooru. “Run a mile my ass,” he hisses and Tooru blinks at him sheepishly, yet is smart enough to keep his weight rested on Hajime’s shoulders instead of putting any more of a strain on his ankle. “We’re setting up camp right here.”

 

“There’s bandits,” Tooru objects, allowing Hajime to slowly lower him to the ground.

 

“And you don’t trust me to fend them off?” Hajime retorts, glaring at the man before his feet.

 

“No, I do,” he replies, raking his fingers through the dirt on the road. “But even if you’re a big, scary laguz, they won’t be able to tell until they engage you.” And, albeit begrudgingly, Hajime has to admit that Tooru has a point there.

 

“Also, I think I left our tent two towns ago.”

 

* * *

 

 

_It takes a while for Tooru to ease up even just a little. He’s reluctant when it comes to speaking and Hajime isn’t too good at offering comfort or pleasant conversation. They keep their exchanges at a bare minimum- how to proceed, where to go, when to leave- and don’t really bask in each other’s companionship._

_It’s a bit sad, really._

_But at some point, Tooru starts trying. He fixes Hajime with a hard stare and indicates towards his own forehead, close to the scar left at his hairline. “There,” he says and taps his skull a few times. Hajime raises a brow in question. “You have a mark there.”_

_“Oh,” is all Hajime can say, then. He runs a finger over the skin where he knows a particularly prominent bundle of red lines is located. “I know I do.”_

_Tooru purses his lips and stares at the floor all too pensively. “Does that mean you are like me?” he asks, tone maybe a bit hopeful. Of course it’s not like that, though- Hajime would put up an effort to hide it if it were._

_And yet, the question itself implies that Tooru somehow managed to remain completely unaware of what Hajime is. Which is a feat in itself, really. “I’m not branded,” he replies and if Tooru slumps a bit at that, it’s barely notable. “It’s something all of my people have. I’ve never thought about it.”_

_“So you were born with it, too?” Tooru wonders, brown eyes wide and curious at the prospect of common ground. Even his tone holds more inflection than Hajime had ever heard from him. And, for some reason, it’s makes him feel better about the boy._

_“Yeah,” he says. “Just like you.”_

 

* * *

 

 

“Oh, you’re such a strong muscle man,” Tooru laughs into Hajime’s ear, arms wound loosely around his neck. But it’s not like the beorc is wrong; if Hajime weren’t as strong as he is, he presumably wouldn’t be able to carry Tooru’s weight piggyback for however long it still is until that damned next village.

 

“You’re heavy,” he retorts, schooling his tone into one of innocent assessment. Tooru lets out an indignant little noise and deliberately leans back just a bit, causing Hajime to stumble for a second. But he catches his footing- falling could mean further injuring Tooru, after all- and digs his nails into the thighs wrapped around his hips in warning. “Such pettiness is unbecoming,” he huffs.

 

But Tooru laughs and drapes himself more snugly along the expanse of Hajime’s back, happily squeezing his arms around him in a tight hug. “What you meant to say is _prettiness_ , not pettiness,” he mumbles and tugs the hood off Hajime’s head, digging his nose into his suddenly bare neck. “But what would you know? Can’t even take a compliment, sheesh.”

 

Hajime jostles him. “Don’t fall asleep on me,” he says upon a sigh, but it sounds weak, even to his own ears. Tooru nuzzles the crook of his neck and huffs a small breath against his skin. “I’m serious. If it gets too dark, you’ll have to hold a torch to light the way.”

 

“I’m not even tired,” grumbles Tooru, body slackening a bit. He sounds like a child, really, all pouty while insisting it isn’t past his bedtime yet. Somehow, it’s almost nostalgic.

 

At some point, the body slung around Hajime goes limp. The breaths tickling his neck even out in perfect tandem with the steady expansion and contraction of Tooru’s chest. And, as Hajime shakes him just a bit to verify the assumption that he’s fallen asleep, sure enough, Tooru is out like a log.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i got a wisdom tooth out and now i'm dead in the face ;n;  
> they say the first three days are the worst and then it gets better, but that's still one and a half days


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one has the advertised violence. yay.

_Their conversations don’t really get more frequent, even as entire years of their vagabond-lifestyle pass. Tooru visibly grows older; not by much, though, what with him remaining spindly and small. Hajime has a hard time not treating him like a little child._

_They’ve travelled half the beorc country of Crimea already, funds kept flowing solely through Hajime working as a farmhand (for half-blind, old farmers, that is) or as a mercenary (which, he will admit, is harder than he’d anticipated; learning how to wield a sword is no trouble at all, but fighting with it- forcing down every instinct to tear and burn- is difficult at best)._

_They sleep in the open, sometimes spanning a blanket between two trees as a makeshift tent. Forest floors and somewhat dry soil are the only bedding they’ll get- Hajime is pretty sure he’s forgotten what an actual bed feels like._

_But it’s exactly because of the kind of life they’ve gotten used to that Hajime stops paying as close attention to possible threats as he once did._

_One minute, he’s watching Tooru sleep in their campfire’s dying embers’ light, the next, the boy is being yanked into a sitting position by his hair, eyes wide and alert in the matter of seconds. A knife is pressed to the soft skin of his exposed throat, a figure behind him sniggering from the shadows._

_“Give us all you’ve got,” Tooru’s captor says liltingly and gives the hair in his grasp a tug in warning. “Wouldn’t want to get this pretty little boy hurt, now, would we?” Whilst Hajime is pretty sure he could take a single beorc out without endangering his protégé any further, the figure had spoken of ‘we’, as opposed to ‘I’- Hajime doesn’t want to chance anything, least of all Tooru’s life._

_Nevertheless, his hands blindly seek the hilt of his sword, hidden by his bag. But despite his best efforts at staying subtle, the man still seems to notice his movements and presses his blade to Tooru’s neck until it draws blood- shockingly much at once._

_So Hajime sees red._

* * *

 

 

Tooru wakes up surprisingly late, blinking in irritation as he takes in all the sunlight streaming in through the windows. Hajime almost laughs at his dumbfounded expression, yet thinks better of it at the last second. Instead, he flops down on the edge of Tooru’s bed and, in turn, startles him.

 

“Morning,” he says, just a bit teasingly. Promptly, Tooru puffs out his cheeks. “I wrapped your ankle and knee in some cold cloth overnight. I don’t... really know if it did anything, but I hoped it might.”

 

Checking under the covers, the beorc hums in appreciation, straw mattress rustling from the apparent flexing of his leg. “It’s all peachy,” Tooru replies, fixing Hajime with a smile as bright as the incessant sunlight. There’s nothing to betray the statement, be it a supressed wince or a pained edge to the upwards tilt of his lips. Frankly, it eases the laguz’ nerves quite a bit.

 

“But do tell,” begins Tooru as he kicks the sheets off of him, practically bouncing to his feet, “where exactly are we right now?” As if to emphasise his question, he whips his head around, scrutinising his surroundings with a squint.

 

Hajime sighs and stands up as well, facing the beorc with his usual amount of annoyance. “We’re in the village we were headed for yesterday. At a nice old widow’s farm,” he answers easily and just maybe lets his eyes linger on Tooru’s exposed legs for a minute. “Hadn’t you fallen _asleep_ like a little _child_ , you would have known.”

 

He only really adds that last part out of spite, but Tooru takes the bait and huffs indignantly, sticking his nose up in the air. “Well, but thanks to my insistence on going yesterday, we’ve now gained two days that we otherwise would’ve spent dilly-dallying around in the last town.”

 

“Thanks to your insistence,” Hajime repeats, then grins, “we had to soldier through that forest in one day and you messed up your leg.”

 

“Your point being?” Tooru asks, all sharply clipped words. He tosses his head around dramatically before sauntering over to the window, squinting worse than usual against the blinding light. “How long will it take us to get to Gallia, you think?”

 

Hajime hums in thought, considering the question. “I’d suppose somewhere around two to three more weeks,” he replies in the end, joining Tooru at the window. The scenery outside isn’t much of anything- a few houses, vast fields, sporadic shrubbery below milky skies.

 

“So, if we head out today and stay on the route even after night falls, we could make it in one and a half,” Tooru assesses, nodding to himself. “And if we get delayed, we’ll still have three to four days’ worth of slack.”

 

“That should be about right,” Hajime agrees, then turns back towards the room, taking in the state of disarray caused by the ordeal that is Tooru getting up. “But I’d say we rest here for at least one more day.”

 

He feels, rather than sees, the beorc whip around at that, irritation and confusion rolling off of him like waves. “What? But why?” he asks, voice going ridiculously shrill towards the end. “There’s nothing keeping us, is there?”

 

“Except for the fact that you’re going to exert your leg once more if you just keep on going? Except for the fact that we’ll have to sleep _out in the open_?” Hajime barks.

 

With his eyes now downcast, Tooru mutters, “I forgot. Sorry.”

 

* * *

 

 

_His jaws crush bones like twigs. Several panicked beorc scramble to scratch him with mere toothpicks for swords, not paying Tooru any mind. Hajime is grateful for that, at least, and he whips around, inhaling deeply before releasing the breath at once._

_The beorc shout out in agony as their skin begins to peel at the sheer heat of Hajime’s breath. It’s not enough, though- not enough to kill them. So he brings his claws down on them, pressing hard, and he feels them snap as he grinds them into the earth._

_It’s good to fight like this after so long. He lets out a growl and snaps his jaws at the long dead bandits, flapping his wings for good measure._

_But suddenly, there’s a tiny hand at his snout. A pair of stern brown eyes levels him. Hajime freezes up, almost feeling compelled to hold Tooru’s gaze. “Hajime, that’s enough,” he says, and he says it bravely, not at all scared of the enraged dragon before him, “they’re dead and I’m fine.”_

_Tooru is, of course, right. The limitations of his transformation are slowly starting to gnaw at his mind, anyways, so Hajime merely nods at the beorc before he allows himself to revert to his usual form._

_As he does, Tooru’s eyes are fixed on him; he is, undoubtedly, piecing everything together right then, being the sharp kid that he is. “You never told me you were a… laguz,” he says, softly, but he sounds neither betrayed nor disgusted._

_“I thought you’d realised as much by now,” Hajime admits sheepishly, but his blood remains boiling, still. It’s a satisfying, tingling sensation, yet he doubts indulging it would do them much good. Instead, he reins in his instincts and bends down a little to speak to Tooru on eye-level. “I should’ve told you, nevertheless.”_

_Tooru just huffs, sticks his nose up petulantly and- oh, that kind of attitude is new. “You really should have,” he agrees, schooling his face into an expression of over-the-top haughtiness. “I’m not mad. If anything, I have to thank you for protecting me,” Tooru adds, and his voice and face go soft._

_“I chose to,” Hajime replies, because it’s the truth, “and I’ll keep on protecting you from now on, as well.”_

 

* * *

 

 

When they do leave the little village a day later (because to Tooru, that is what it means to compromise), they’re both well-rested and several baggies of food, as well as a makeshift tent, richer. Hajime thanks the old lady they’d been staying with at least a million times for her hospitality, but she insists it’s fine and sends them off with a cheerful wave.

 

Tooru practically skips onwards, humming to himself whilst snacking on a loaf with a thick layer of white cheese oozing from between the upper and lower half. It’s honestly a bit disgusting, but Hajime doesn’t want half an hour worth of whining, so he keeps that notion to himself.

 

Once they make it to the outskirts of another small settlement, they even manage to hitch a hike from a kindly young farmer and his wife- both not looking much older than the age Tooru appears to be. And, well; they’re nice enough, striking up pleasant conversation as they urge their ox onwards to follow the dirt trail.

 

“So where’re you headed?” the wife asks at some point, and Hajime freezes at the question. There’s no way they could tell a pair of beorc that, _oh, y’know, just the beast laguz’ country, no big deal._ But Tooru is, by a long shot, the quicker thinker of the two of them, so he begins to ramble about some border-town that Hajime doesn’t really believe exists at all.

 

The farmers buy it, though, and end up romanticising the idea of being free to go wherever they want to go. “It’s a harder lifestyle than yours,” Tooru tells them. Much to Hajime’s surprise, he doesn’t sound condescending saying it. “Staying alive while making enough money to buy food and supplies isn’t easy when you’re always on the road.”

 

“How do you guys do it, then?” the farmer wonders, his eyes trained on the road ahead of them.

 

Tooru grins. “We do mercenary work.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in case you're wondering, toothy really did get better; also please notice this fic i am starved for attention


	5. Chapter 5

_Apparently shaken by his own inability to fight, it’s not long until Tooru asks Hajime to teach him how to wield a sword. Begrudgingly, he ends up agreeing, but in the same breath, he informs Tooru that he isn’t all too proficient with weaponry in the first place._

_“Because we laguz take pride in our strength and only use our natural weapons,” he tells him, and it’s admittedly strange to openly state what he is while talking to Tooru. But the boy just hums and picks out a tree branch- too long to make do as a sword, too short and thick to make do as a lance- for a weapon. Hajime doesn’t know too much about beorc-warfare, but he’s clumsily crossed blades with enough people to have learned how their shape affects their effectiveness._

_He doesn’t say anything, though, and instead chooses a short, sturdy branch for himself. “Come at me, then,” Hajime instructs as he takes a fighting stance. Tooru glances at his own makeshift weapon for a second, then tightens his grip around the smoother end. Frankly, Hajime expects him to mindlessly charge at him immediately, but Tooru hesitates for another moment and just stands there, considering his opponent._

_“I’m clearly at a disadvantage,” he states and needlessly readjusts his hands on the ‘hilt’ of his supposed sword._

_“So make up for it some way,” replies Hajime and raises his brows as if prompting the beorc to come up with something on the spot._

_Tooru just nods and, with a first measured step, begins closing in on him._

 

* * *

 

The farmer couple, as it turns out, is headed for a fairly large town. Tooru laughs at Hajime for believing that they were on their way home (“Silly Hajime, why would they have fields so far off from home? They don’t even have any tools with them, only baskets with goods! Geez, is your brain nothing but muscles and- ow! Ow! Okay, I give, I give!”) but, oddly enough, doesn’t seem too keen on spending the night in that particular town.

 

By the time they arrive at their destination, the sky is a deep orange already. Insisting that unloading the crates and baskets upon the chariot is the least they could do to repay the farmers’ kindness, they make quick work of the loaded goods and bid their farewells when everything is done.

 

Despite the sun dipping lower and lower on the horizon by the minute, Hajime doesn’t feel even a bit fatigued. Tooru seems to be facing the same problem, for he practically exudes unspent energy.

 

“Wanna go for a walk?” Hajime offers, walking just a tad faster, thereby slightly outpacing Tooru.

 

“Is that an invitation for a sparring match in the woods?” the beorc asks, smile permeating his voice to the point where Hajime doesn’t even have to see it to know it’s there. And a second later, he ends up seeing it, still, as Tooru catches up to him and bumps their shoulders together.

 

Hajime sighs. “No, dumbass, it’s an invitation to walk off all that,” he pauses to make some vague hand gesture in Tooru’s general direction, “nervousness.”

 

“I’m not nervous,” Tooru huffs, as though it mattered.

 

“Regardless, it’ll get dark soon enough and we shouldn’t head off too far,” the laguz reasons and, surprisingly, it earns him a brief, affirmative nod from Tooru. Hajime feels something sink inside him. “Hey,” he mutters, and it’s almost too soft to hear. “Are you alright?”

 

The smile Tooru forces upon his lips looks like some sort of grimace. “I’m just,” he begins, swiping his hands around aimlessly, and eventually stops trying. “I’m afraid that we’ll have nowhere to go after we finish our current business.”

 

Hajime can’t help but sigh. “Idiot,” he says, but it comes out way too fondly. “We’ve never had anywhere to go in the first place.”

 

* * *

 

_Eight out of ten fights, Tooru ends up on his ass. It’s to be expected, Hajime tells him; after all, he’s smaller, weaker and lacks fighting experience. Nevertheless, he can’t deny his scary aptitude when it comes to thinking quickly and using everything he has to his advantage; truly, beorc are blessed with an innate wisdom most laguz lack._

_At first, the boy complains about ending up battered and bruised after their little sparring matches, begs Hajime to go easy on him several times. Hajime, of course, doesn’t. “Do you think someone who’s after your life will go easy on you just because you’re a kid?” he asks him every time, his tone patient instead of harsh._

_Tooru would shake his head every time and eventually, he takes pride in the fading blue bruises littering his skin because **he learns**. Of course, he’s also getting attuned to Hajime’s very own brand of clumsy fighting (which is, admittedly, quite concerning), but he gets better at evading and reading hits. Hajime can practically see his mind working nonstop whenever they spar._

_He’s proud of Tooru._

_And even more so when the beorc starts filling out his slowly growing body; not with chub and softness like a child should, but with lithe muscle and strength coiling through every fibre of it._

_Probably, Hajime thinks, he could hold his own._

* * *

“All I’m saying is,” Tooru practically shouts, slamming his empty glass onto the table, “that we should travel Daein when we get back.” His declaration is bold, noisy and turns a few heads inside the dim little tavern they’d ended up in. Hajime glowers at Tooru before throwing a few apologetic smiles at some of the patrons.

 

“Keep it down,” he hisses through his teeth when he looks back at the beorc across from him. Tooru doesn’t show any remorse however, what with his glassy eyes and flushed cheeks. He’s never been good with alcohol, Hajime knows.

 

So he just smiles- sultry and not quite there- and despite himself, Hajime feels his throat constrict. “Sheesh, don’t be such a sourpuss,” Tooru coos, his red cheeks puffed out childishly. “The people here don’t know us. Even if they pick a fight, we’d win.”

 

“Yes, because my shitty fighting and your drunken ass are a force to be reckoned with,” Hajime replies, entirely deadpan, and Tooru- with the most solemn expression imaginable- nods.

 

On second thought, maybe Hajime should just throw him in the fray of a bar brawl and try to gain some odd miles on him.

 

Silence settles over them after that. Some muted conversations add enough white noise to make it a bit less awkward when Tooru stares at the bottom of his glass as though it contained all the answers in the universe. “I get anxious, not knowing where I’ll be tomorrow,” he says, eventually, with his tone soft, but the edge to it grave. “I hate grasping at straws, Hajime.”

 

And when he tears his gaze away from his glass (and he really _tears_ , because it seems to cause him physical pain, almost), suddenly, Hajime doesn’t see the cunning, charismatic man shaped by years upon years of travelling that Tooru had become.

  
Instead, he sees the pathetic, fearful boy with the scar at his hairline and abandonment at his heels that he’d encountered decades ago.

 

So this time, he’s the one to look away, finding the table to be mesmerising. “You’re not grasping at straws,” he mumbles, quietly, and pries the glass out of Tooru’s vice grip, just to cradle his longer, softer hands in his own. “It was insensitive of me to dismiss you earlier. If you want to be somewhere, then just say the word and we’ll go there.”

 

“I don’t…” he begins, falters, sighs and drops his head. “I don’t think I want to _be_ anywhere. I just want to keep on going.” He sounds honest; like the raw-throated, bare Tooru that sometimes spills his insecurities to Hajime and Hajime alone, sometime between midnight and dawn. It pulls at the laguz’ heartstrings.

 

“Let’s go,” Hajime says and stands, letting go of Tooru’s hands just to offer him his right one a second later. And without another word and with all the trust in the world, Tooru grasps it firmly and lets himself be pulled along.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> does training and hurting someone in turn count as abuse? i'm not a fan of casually abusive iwa-chan, y'know. i've been beating myself up over this ngl.
> 
> (also i'm still on an fe-high from echoes (it's so good, omg. like, my fave 3ds game.) and that's why you get an update. ayy)


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